Domestic Violence Awareness

26 Oct Domestic Violence Awareness

This is an anonymous testimony from a young girl in foster care who grew up in a domestic violence household. 

Trigger Warning!!! 

Some topics in this article may be sensitive to readers. If topics of domestic violence and child abuse are triggering for you, we suggest you read with caution. 

When I was a young girl, my parents fought a lot. There were many nights when I’d lay in bed in hopes to finally get enough sleep for school the next morning. Most of the time, I would be woken up by loud screams coming from the living room. Loud thuds and curse words echoed through the house. 

I would curl up under my bedsheets as if they would keep me safe. For some reason as a kid, hiding under bedsheets was like having a force field around me to protect myself from any harm. It was like I was invisible in the darkness beneath the soft cotton.  

I was safe until the usual point in the night when my name would get called from across the house. I would often have to intervene to save one of my parents from the other. But when I would show up, I did not see anyone who needed to be saved. Only two warriors fighting for dominance, like a showdown to see who could win. 

Most nights during all of this, my little brother would be sleeping in his room. Usually, he slept through the night without a peep. I was thankful when their fighting did not wake him up. But some nights when the fighting got too bad, I would grab him from his room and bring him into mine to keep him safe. Sometimes our parents would come into my room while fighting. Either because one of them was trying to get away from the other, or to get me to intervene. 

One time, they shoved each other into my door, busting it open, causing them to fall to the floor and wrestle all over my room. I took my brother and hid in the closet until they finally left to continue their fight around the house.

Their violence would finally end when one of them had enough and they separated for the night. When the mornings after their fights would come around, our days would continue like nothing happened. I got up for school, got my brother ready, and we would go to the bus stop to start our normal day. 

But things were not normal. Holes the shape of fists decorated the walls, blood stained the floors, and empty beer bottles scattered the tables before they would clean everything up to look like nothing happened.

As you could probably guess, DHR had been involved frequently throughout my childhood. It was not until one final night when the fight got too bad and DHR finally said enough was enough. 

I do not remember much about that fight between my parents. I only remember that things began as they usually did: shouting, punching walls, breaking glass, adults throwing blows at one another, my name being shouted to come rescue one of them…

It had gotten to a point where I did not come to their rescue when my name was called. I would stay in bed, pretending I was asleep and could not hear. Eventually, they would give up and figure things out on their own. But they were persistent that night, so I got up and came to the rescue.

Once I reached my parents, my mother shouted, “Call the cops!”

I ran to my room to grab my phone and called 911. I was headed back through the hallway while on the phone with the police when my father came at me to try and stop me from calling them. Over the years during their arguments, I have had beer bottles thrown past my face, had to grab my little brother when he was a baby out the crossfire of their fighting before he got hurt, my face had been slapped, I have been shoved, and much more. The fear my father tried to strike in me that night did not even phase me at that point. And he knew it. 

He stormed out of the house in a panic once he heard the police were on their way, breaking the entire door frame in the process. There was blood all over my mother and stuff knocked down all over the floors. I thought it was just a typical night in the week and the next day would start over like normal. We would talk to the police, tell them everything is fine, that it was all just a misunderstanding, and go to bed. But the next day was different than any day we had ever had. It was the day DHR finally took me and my brother out of our home and placed us into the foster care system. 

Of course, naturally as any child would, I missed my mom. I wanted to be back with her and things to all work out. But as I have grown older, I am glad to have been able to escape the dangerous, traumatic environment I grew up in. I have found ways to heal and thrive in my life regardless of my trauma. 

I graduated high school, went to college, got a job, all while doing the work to heal from my traumatic experiences. With therapy, a strong support system of friends and family, my faith, a little brother to be there for, and a life I dream of having, I do not let my life be defined by what I have been through. It is tough, and every day is a struggle, but I am doing it…and you can too. 

Of course, I still get jumpy when people talk loudly in conversations or loud, abrupt noises occur suddenly. I still am sensitive to certain conflicts and get anxious when people do not get along. I have a hard time trusting people in relationships due to fear of continuing the cycle in my family of toxic relationships. My nervous system is something I must keep in check often. But it is possible. 

The biggest thing for me was finding my purpose. I used to wonder why I was put through all of that pain and suffering. But now I know. To use my story to help others who have been through similar experiences. You do not have to be defined by what you have been through. There is a way to thrive and live the life you want, even with difficulties that come from your obstacles. You just have to fight for it and believe in it. Find people to lean on, resources of support to help heal, and discover your purpose…because each and every one of you has one. 

This girl is very brave for telling her story. We hope you find it insightful, inspiring, and encouraging. This is exactly why we need more awareness and education on domestic violence and the foster care system. We need your help to make improvements and prevent victims from further harm. If you want to know how you can get involved and make a difference, visit our website.

If you need mental health resources or a way to contact help if you are experiencing domestic violence or abuse, visit our resource page for organizations that can connect you with services that provide help. 

If you have a testimony to share or a service you provide that may be impactful for the foster care community, email taylor@fostercoalition.org to see about being a guest on our podcast: Safe Home Alabama on Spotify. Your story can help many of those who are struggling and are in need of help, resources, or just someone to relate to and offer hope in their journey. We uplift and empower voices in the foster care community, and you can be a voice for them!